


Persuaded

by fluidstatic



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Manicures & Pedicures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 15:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14047356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluidstatic/pseuds/fluidstatic
Summary: Juno doesn't do pedicures. Peter is very persuasive.





	Persuaded

“I’m not interested.”

Peter chuckles fondly through his disappointment. 

“Oh, Juno, if I thought you were interested in taking care of yourself I wouldn’t have brought up the subject to begin with. But your poor feet, detective; what in the world have you been doing to yourself if you can barely stand?”

“Stepped on somethin’ sharp a while back,” Juno mutters, into his glass of whiskey.

“Well! And how do you know it isn’t infected – Oh for goodness’ sake, put that down,” Peter scolds, gently wrapping long fingers around Juno’s wrist. 

The touch seems to freeze the detective just enough to allow Peter to ease the highball out of his hand. Juno opens his mouth to protest, but Peter smiles brilliantly and his mouth closes again, twists defensively against the urge to smile back.

“There you are, darling detective,” Peter says, and if Juno thinks it’s a little too much of an endearment, he finds he doesn’t mind. “Hands free for more constructive business. Take off your shoes, now, and let’s have a look at your poor feet. Doctor’s orders.”

He winks, which Juno huffs at, but he kicks off one high heeled boot and then the other, without undoing the zippers. His ankles pop with the effort and he scowls.

“Gently, now!” Peter frowns, takes one slightly swollen ankle in both hands and massages it, experimentally. Juno melts back into the couch and barely bites back a surprised, relieved sound.

“Oh, well isn’t that lovely,” Peter teases, and does the same to the other ankle. “But look here, you’ve been walking on a half dislocated joint, you poor thing. Why haven’t you seen a doctor about it?”

“Don’t have time for doctors,” Juno mutters, this time almost somnolently, as the low throb in his ankles and arches subsides. “I’m busy.” 

Peter clucks at the lie; Juno hasn’t had a case in weeks. “You’ve got time for me, don’t you?”

“You’re different.” Juno exhales heavily as Peter begins to massage the ball of his foot, and adds “Might have better luck with that if I weren’t wearing socks.”

Peter rewards him with another brilliant grin, a gentle giggle. “Having a change of heart?”

“I’m not letting you give me a goddamn pedicure, Nureyev.”

“If it’s toenail fungus you’re worried about, let me assure you, detective, I’ve seen worse than you can imagine in my time. Dealt with everything from gangrene to frostbite to Uranian flesh rot. A few neglected toenails don’t scare me.”

Juno makes a noise like a handful of pebbles in a blender.

“Fine,” he says, and it’s worth it because Peter’s whole face opens up like a firework with delight, and he rocks back from Juno’s feet to clap his hands, just once, triumphantly.

“You’re going to thank me, Juno,” he says, and then he’s on his feet and striding toward the bathroom in what seems like one fluid motion.

“Don’t get too excited about this,” Juno warns. “A massage, some badger balm or something for my ankles, maybe clip my nails if I’m somehow not horribly ticklish, which, spoiler alert, I really, really am.” 

“Don’t be absurd,” Peter replies, and Juno listens as he runs water, picks through the bathroom cabinet, makes a small pleased noise of discovery. “Coral nail polish, Juno, how fetching. And with a pretty copper shimmer in it. But you’ve never opened it? What a waste, it’s literally collecting dust.” 

“Goddamn it. Rita gave me that. Leave it alone.”

“Never in a thousand years,” Peter retorts, coming out of the bathroom with a basin of hot water, lotion, and a little bag with nail clippers and the neglected nail polish.

Juno has to admit that Peter has great hands. Truly amazing hands. He busiest his mouth with little flirtatious remarks, laughs when Juno rolls his eyes, and occasionally takes the breath out of Juno’s lungs with his soft look of concentration as he files down ragged edges of nails, scrubs away dead skin. Juno catches himself staring, Peter delicately pouting as he coaxes nail polish onto Juno’s smallest toenails. He never smudges, never fumbles. His dark eyes glow with attention. 

When Peter is finally done painting he gently blows on the wet polish. Juno had anticipated it being an uncomfortably erotic moment but it’s actually devastatingly endearing.

“C'mere,” he says.

“Don’t put your feet on the floor just yet,” Peter warns, leaning up, tilting his head. “What can I do for you?”

“You were right. Again.” 

“I’m right about a lot of things,” Peter teases. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Thanks, Nureyev,” Juno says, looks at Peter’s gorgeous pink mouth, settles on kissing his cheek instead.

“It’s a privilege,” Peter replies, and promptly steals the proper kiss Juno left out for him. “Mustn’t let a smile that pretty go to waste.”

“Shut up,” Juno says, but the smile only gets wider. “Paint my fingernails while you’re at it, will you?”

**Author's Note:**

> An anonymous prompt I had ridiculous fun with. Send requests (always welcome!) to my tumblr @fluidstatic.


End file.
